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Are you coming home for Christmas?
We now tire from keeping steps of your shadow.
Hope some playing kids trip the pot of silence
You have hid on the road for so long now.

Are you coming home for Christmas?
All that’s left to remind us of you:
The ruffles from heaps of dry leaves
Under the cherry tree drifting like loneliness;
Where you often sat and gazed at the waning twilight,
While you twist together some strands of hope for Mama.

If you are coming home for Christmas,
Please bring me those woolen robes,
The magic ropes,
The flying box,
And some soothing salt-
Ones that stole your heart away from home these years.

Hope you are coming home for Christmas?
Mama’s eyes are now worn from watching the road;
On her lips, are countless cuts from mistaken calls of your name.
Papa could not wait anymore.
Mama said men are impatient-
She also told me, you looked just like me-
The silhouette waking in the dawn of my eyes
Each time she stares inside,
And fears losing me too to the road,
Hope you are coming home for Christmas?

under the sheets
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